


In this fire forged

by LiveOakWithMoss



Series: Radioactive [2]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Fucked up Finwian dramamonsters, Implied Curufin/Finrod - Freeform, Incest, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 16:35:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1906026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveOakWithMoss/pseuds/LiveOakWithMoss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Curufin rages; Celegorm enjoys it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In this fire forged

Curufin left the council meeting in a towering temper. Outwardly, he was as cool and composed as ever, face smooth and unperturbed, but the mercury flicker of his silver eyes was enough for Celegorm to know a storm was brewing. And sure enough, as soon as they reached their quarters and the door shut behind them, the storm broke, and Curufin let out a ferocious oath and kicked a chair across the room. 

“Bloody, equivocating, weak, self-serving _cowards_ – ” He tore the broach from his throat, casting his formal robes to the floor with unrestrained violence. 

Celegorm laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder, attempting to placate. “Curvo – ” 

Curufin turned on him with a snarl, his eyes murderous. “This _place_ , it is such a waste of our time!” He slammed his fist down on his desk, sending papers and ink and numerous delicate tools flying. “We fritter away our talents and our birthright in this miserable hole, biding our time, all careful words and flattery when to rights the _kingdom_ should be ours – how can you stand it, Tyelko? This Valar forsaken stagnation!” 

Celegorm raised his eyebrows. “I don’t stand it, Curvo. Why do you think I leave every chance I get? You would do well to come with me more often.” 

“The hunt does not soothe my soul as it does yours,” said Curufin bitterly. 

“The forge, then.” 

“A frustration.” Curufin smiled humorlessly. “And a reminder that my son wants nothing to do with me.” Celegorm winced. Celebrimbor was ever at Finrod’s side these days, but he came never to his father’s quarters. 

“Perhaps Felagund could – ” 

“Do not speak to me of him!” The rage rose in Curufin again, and he shook himself free of his brother, wrenching away violently. 

Celegorm gritted his teeth. It was rare for Curufin to lose control like this, but when he did, his fury was as fearsome as their father’s, and as dangerous. Curufin looked like he was ready to break things, or break necks, and Celegorm made up his mind. Soothing words and rationality had never been his forte, anyway. And he'd be lying if he said he took no pleasure in riding out his brother's rages. 

Instead, he seized Curufin and slammed him back against the wall. “Very well then, brother,” he growled. “You need to rage? You need to lose control? Try me. I promise I’m more satisfying than smashing your trinkets to dust.” And he caught Curufin’s lips in a fierce kiss. 

For a moment, Curufin was frozen, breath driven from him by the force of Celegorm's kiss, but then his arms came up and gripped Celegorm hard, and he sank his teeth in Celegorm’s lower lip, drawing blood. 

Celegorm grunted appreciatively, and pushed his thigh between Curufin’s legs, letting his brother grind down on him as they kissed, reveling in the feel of Curufin’s sharp teeth and strong hands. But as he made to fumble with the laces of Curufin’s breeches, Curufin pulled away abruptly. 

“No,” he whispered, and shoved Celegorm back. Celegorm staggered, and caught himself with a hand on the bedpost, and then Curufin was pushing him down on the edge of the bed, kneeling before him and tugging Celegorm’s breeches aside to free his arousal. 

“Eru, yes,” said Celegorm, letting his head fall back as Curufin wrapped a hand around him. “Ah, brother – ” He broke off with a groan as Curufin took him into his mouth. 

He buried his hand in Curufin’s black hair, tugging just hard enough to add the edge of pain to pleasure. A low moan from Curufin encouraged him further, and he widened his legs, thrusting lightly into his brother’s mouth. 

“You imagine doing this in the throne room, don’t you?” he murmured at last, voice rough with lust, gazing down at the dark head bent over him. “You imagine kneeling before him, do you not, pledging obeisance, when really, it is you who holds the power…” He broke off, gasping, as Curufin’s tongue did something wicked to the underside of his cock. “You kneel before him, before the throne, all the while knowing that if you push those comely robes up to his waist you’ll see him laid bare, hard and aching for you. And he’ll part those pretty white thighs and let you take him in your mouth…” 

Curufin made a noise in the back of his throat, and Celegorm saw him spread his knees apart, his free hand finding its way into the front of his breeches. Celegorm grinned and went on recklessly, even as the heat rose in him and he fought to maintain control. 

“You’ll suck him off on his throne, robes bunched around his waist, wanton and begging, that golden hair wild as the crown slips from his brow, that lovely throat flushed under that necklace of his, the one I know you can’t take your eyes off, the one I know you dream about pulling tight around his neck even as he gasps and pleads under you, crying out for you – _ah, cousin_ _–_ ” Celegorm laughed, low and teasing, mimicking Findaráto’s lilting tones. 

Curufin groaned wildly around Celegorm’s cock, and Celegorm had to break off, closing his eyes against the tight heat of his brother’s lips. “ _Manw_ _ë,_ Curvo, your mouth…” 

Curufin pulled away, eyes bright, skin flushed, gasping. “Valar all damn, Tyelko, I need – ”

“Yes,” Celegorm growled. “I know. Come here.” He pulled Curufin up, roughly, jerking his breeches off. He dragged Curufin onto his lap, and Curufin wrapped powerful arms around his shoulders, panting as Celegorm arranged himself beneath him. 

“Are you –” Celegorm managed, and Curufin gasped, “Yes, now, _do it_ ,” and Celegorm pushed into him. 

It was quick and brutal and too damned perfect to last long after that, and Celegorm held Curufin close and struggled to hold himself back against his brother’s impossible tightness, his consuming heat. 

“Curvo,” he breathed at last, desperate, and Curufin threw his head back and gritted out, “Yes.” Celegorm fumbled a hand between them, and it only took a couple of strokes to have Curufin spurting across his stomach with a wrecked moan. 

“Ai, beautiful,” whispered Celegorm, and spilled into him, burying his face in his brother’s neck, tasting salt.

Curufin slumped, spent, still astride Celegorm's lap. Celegorm dragged them both back onto the bed, spilling Curufin onto the sheets. He wrapped an arm around his brother’s hard waist and nuzzled into his neck, unusually demonstrative for their post-coital interactions. He nipped lightly at Curufin’s throat to get his attention, and Curufin at last stirred, raising a hand to tangle lightly in Celegorm’s hair.

“Beast,” he murmured, without heat. “I should be disturbed that you know my mind well enough to undo me.” 

“You’re not the only crafty one, brother,” said Celegorm, with a languorous stretch. “Nor the only one who can observe.” 

“Ever the keen eyed hunter,” said Curufin, and tugged sharply at Celegorm’s hair.  "You enjoy that all too much, don't deny it."

Celegorm didn't try. “Has your blood cooled now?" he asked instead, rolling onto his back and letting out a hum of pleasure as Curufin dragged his fingers against his scalp. “Are you feeling less chafed by our circumstances and our infuriating cousin?” 

“Hm,” said Curufin, and kicked idly at Celegorm’s feet. “It is not the hunt, nor the smithy, but you are nevertheless a quite effective forge in which to burn out my rage, Tyelko.” 

“Whenever you need me,” said Celegorm, lazy and self-satisfied, and closed his eyes.


End file.
